The History Books
by rayon.de.soleil
Summary: Short stories - inspired by a word a day.
1. Irrevocable

She'd taken six steps into the restaurant before walking back out again.

Hermione stood in the cool night air outside The Gremlin, blinking quickly and fiddling with her purse. He was here, back in England, back in Diagon Alley.

She'd taken six steps into the restaurant before Draco noticed her.

He rose from the table, downing his firewhiskey and followed her outside.

He walked straight out into the street, looking left and right, before he heard a small voice behind him.

'Malfoy.'

She was leaning against the wall of The Gremlin, wearing a first date red dress and a dark coat. He approached her silently, struck dumb by her close proximity.

'I'm sorry. You surprised me,' she mumbled.

'Weasley set you up then?'

'Yes,' she laughed brightly. 'I suppose she said you were meeting a handsome stranger too?'

'No. She told me it was you.'

'She-?' Hermione's tone changed. 'You knew it was me?'

'Yes. I don't date strangers, Granger.'

Hermione considered him. He was older. He had shadows under his eyes and faint lines around his mouth. His eyes were the same. Less malicious but still familiar.

'What about your enemies?'

He smiled.

'Never.' He extended a hand towards her. 'But I can make an exception.'

Perhaps she was cold. Perhaps she was hungry. Or perhaps she felt an inexorable pull towards Draco Malfoy, but Hermione took his hand and let him lead her inside, where he took her coat, pulled out her chair and paid for dinner.

When they left the restaurant and stood facing each other outside, he leaned in close and whispered against her hair,

'Do you kiss your enemies, Granger?'

'Never,' she replied and pressed her lips to his.


	2. Flippant

'What are you playing at, Granger?'

I stared stonily at my desk, my eyes welling up for no reason I could fathom. Emotions ran close to the surface these days and it was hard to pull them apart. Analysing was utterly out of my vocabulary these days.

'Granger. Granger. Granger? _Granger? Granger. Granger. Granger Granger Granger_-'

The fucking idiot was now leaning against the door frame of my office.

'_What_?' I didn't look up.

'_Why did you submit evidence that cleared my name_?'

'I don't know.'

'That's not a reason, Granger, and I'm losing my patience.'

'I wanted to help. I'm a good person. I know how the Wizengamot works.'

'Still not reasons that make any sense to me, Granger. Or anyone else with a brain. Perhaps that's your problem?'

'Perhaps.'

'It seems a rather reckless thing to do considering our rather- ah... regrettable past.'

'Perhaps I have no wish to regret anything in the future?'

And she looked up and met his clear eyes. And ignored the raised eyebrow. And the smirk.


	3. Reminisce

I find myself remembering the last time I saw her.

_She stood amongst the wreckage of Hogwarts library. Her hands clasped pages of a destroyed book. Her feet had left prints in the dust on the carpet. Her hair was darker than usual. She had a rip in her shirt and blood on her trainers. The dim lights of the room caught the tracks of tears on her filthy cheeks. _

_She looked up. She was as lost as I was. Amongst her novels and textbooks she was just another casualty of war. Another victim of that evil._

She looked up. She stood behind the counter, set against rows and rows of books. Gold and green and red spines filled with pages of old and new and provoking words.

I wished for some now. To talk or chat or provoke.

'Mr Malfoy.'

_And again I was in the library with her on that hateful day. I licked my dry lips._

'_Granger?'_

_My voice rasped. I hadn't said anything for hours. _

_She said nothing. Incapable of speech. I was incapable of thought. _

'_Granger, I-'_

'Good day, Miss Granger.'

I nodded and left immediately.


	4. Blink

It happened in the time it takes to blink,

just like that.

-Imtiaz Dharker

* * *

It happened in the time it takes to blink.

Like a car crash, a train wreck, losing somebody you love. Occurring so fast you almost miss it. That blink that could have cost you your first reaction. Eyes wide open as the fateful event manifests into your body's response.

It happened in the time it takes to blink. Just like that, Hermione's quill fell from the edge of her desk to the floor.

He didn't blink. He didn't miss it. He didn't miss anything.

Just like that, he stopped to pick it up, rested the feathers on the corner of the wood.

'Thanks,' she muttered, her eyes still fixed on her books, dropping one by one into her worn bag.

'Too slow,' he said. And then, 'Mine now.'

She blinked.

She didn't miss him slip it into his pocket.

Just like that, Draco Malfoy had her quill.

* * *

A/N: I don't know if these even make sense anymore, but I'm hoping you might find some inner meaning from them.


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